Reborn In The Three Kingdoms
Chapter 822: 783. Celebration For The Unborn Child

Chapter 822: 783. Celebration For The Unborn Child

If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!

Go to /Tang12

___________________________

Sima Yi bowed slightly. “If I may, Your Majesty, I would like to make a personal donation to the poor of Xiapi in honor of this occasion. So that my child, whether son or daughter, may be born under auspicious fortune and bring luck to the future of the Dynasty and my family.”

Lie Fan nodded approvingly. “A noble gesture, Zhongda. Let it be done. I will do the same as well.”

Meanwhile, in the inner chambers of the Sima residence, a flurry of activity unfolded. Princess Wannian received visits from the highest ranking women of the palace.

Empress Ying arrived first, graceful and maternal, accompanied by Concubine Diao Chan, Concubine Cai Wenji, Concubine Lu Lingqi, and, more formally, Concubine Zhen Ji, whom Lie Fan had never consummated out of respect for her wishes.

That’s why Zhen Ji maintained a respectful distance, as her relationship with Lie Fan was more symbolic than intimate, but she still honored Princess Wannian as family.

The moment they entered, Lady Sima, Wannian’s mother in law, nearly fainted at the sight of such esteemed guests. “Y-Your Majesty and Your Highnesses! This humble one is unworthy of such an honor—”

But Empress Ying, as kind as ever, smiled warmly and took her hands, reassuring her. “There is no need for such formality today, Madam Sima. We are here as family.”

Wannian, reclining on a cushioned divan, beamed as her sisters in law surrounded her. Though she was now a princess, she had grown up alongside many of them, and the bonds ran deep.

“Sister Ying,” Wannian said, her voice filled with emotion, “I still remember when you used to sneak me sweets when Father and Big Brother weren’t looking.”

Empress Ying laughed, a rare, unguarded sound. “And now you will have a child of your own to spoil.

Concubine Diao Chan, ever playful, leaned in. “Tell me, do you think the great strategist and Minister of War, Sima Yi, will fuss over you like an old nursemaid?”

Wannian rolled her eyes. “I’m sure of it. He pretends he is calm, but I have already caught him before in the past that he reads scrolls on child rearing when he thinks I’m not looking.”

The women burst into laughter, the room filling with warmth. For a brief moment, the weight of empires and conquests faded away, replaced by the simple, profound joy of family.

While the women celebrated, Lie Fan found himself in the palace training grounds with his eldest son and heir, Crown Prince Lie Muchen.

At eleven years old, Muchen was already showing the makings of a warrior. His stance was firm, his strikes precise, and his eyes burned with the same intensity as his father’s. He also had already begun mastering the sword, spear, and bow. By his side stood Zhao Yun, the famed general who now served as the prince’s personal bodyguard and martial instructor.

“Again,” Lie Fan commanded, raising his wooden practice sword.

Muchen lunged, his movements fluid. Lie Fan parried effortlessly, then countered with a controlled strike that forced the boy to stumble back.

“Good,” Lie Fan said. “But you’re still telegraphing your swings. Your enemy will see it coming.”

Zhao Yun nodded in agreement. “Your Majesty is right, Your Highness. Speed and strength are important, but unpredictability is what wins battles.”

Muchen wiped sweat from his brow, panting slightly. Then, a mischievous glint entered his eyes. “Fa.. Imperial Father… Uncle Zhao… would you two spar? I want to see who is stronger between the two of you!”

Zhao Yun stiffened. “Your Highness, that would be—”

Lie Fan raised his eyebrow and chuckled. “Why not, Zilong?”

Zhao Yun hearing that cupped his hand. “As you command, Your Majesty.”

So the two warriors faced each other, wooden swords in hand. For a moment, the air itself seemed to still.

Then they moved.

Blurred strikes, parries so fast they whistled through the air. Muchen’s eyes widened as he watched, awestruck.

His father moved like a thunderclap, powerful, fast, unstoppable, not knowing that his father’s body had surpassed mortal limitations thanks to his system’s unseen stat bonuses. Zhao Yun, on the other hand, light on his feet and deadly in precision, moved with the grace of a phantom that was graceful and untouchable, his footwork a dance of death.

Back and forth they went, neither giving ground. The clash of wood echoed like thunder.

Then, Lie Fan feinted left, twisted, and in a move too quick for the eye to follow, disarmed Zhao Yun with a sharp tap to the wrist.

Silence.

Then, Muchen erupted in cheers as he clapped. “Imperial Father wins!”

Zhao Yun bowed deeply, smiling. “As expected of Your Majesty. The title God of War being passed down to Your Majesty was the perfect praise for your prowess.”

Lie Fan smirked. “You’ve gotten faster, Zilong. But like you said unpredictability wins wars.”

Muchen rushed forward, eyes shining. “Teach me that move, Imperial Father! The one where you twisted—”

Lie Fan ruffled his son’s hair. *”In time. For now, focus on the basics. Do not aim to be stronger than us. Aim to be wiser. Power is but one part of a great ruler.”

“Yes, Father!” Chenchen nodded, absorbing every word like scripture.

As they walked back toward the palace, Muchen chattered excitedly about one day leading armies like his father. Lie Fan listened, pride swelling in his chest.

That night, as Xiapi prepared for the grand banquet that would be held in two days, the city glowed with lanterns. Donations flowed from Sima Yi and Lie Fan’s coffers into the hands of the poor, rice, coins, and fabric, all delivered under the banner of blessing the unborn child.

In the Azure Dragon temple that was being renamed as the Azure Royal Temple, offerings were made to Heaven and Earth, prayers said not just for the dynasty’s strength, but for peace and the future.

Two days later, the grand banquet was held in the palace’s Hall of Eternal Harmony.

The room glittered with lantern light, the air rich with the scent of roasted meats and fine wines. Nobles in silk robes mingled with scholars in refined attire, merchants in their finest garb, and generals in polished armor.

At the head of the hall, seated upon the imperial dais, was Lie Fan, flanked by his parents, King Lie Shang and Queen Dowager Yu, and his wives. Princess Wannian and Sima Yi sat at a place of honor nearby, the expectant mother glowing with happiness.

As the feast commenced, musicians played, dancers twirled, and toasts were made to the health of the unborn child.

Lie Fan stood, raising his cup.

“Today, we celebrate not just a child, but the future of our dynasty. May this new life bring prosperity, strength, and unity to the Hengyuan Dynasty!”

The hall erupted in claps and cheers.

After Lie Fan’s toast, the food was served and accompanied by music, laughter, and the soft clinking of fine ceramic. The banquet truly came alive.

Servants moved swiftly between low tables, laying out delicacies of sea and land, sweet roasted duck glazed in plum wine, steamed river fish in ginger and scallion, lamb stew from the northern plains, and rare fruit compotes from the southern provinces. Wine flowed from gilded jugs, poured into goblets made of crystal and silver.

Everyone began to enjoy the feast, but beneath the pageantry, another layer of subtle politics brewed. For the shrewd, such an event was never just a celebration.

Many of the guests, especially the merchants, understood this. They had received an imperial invitation, a rare honor not often extended to those of trade. Some were family members of the Zhen Clan, the Mi Clan, and the prestigious Yu Merchant Group. Others were rising figures in the commerce world who saw tonight as a golden chance.

These merchants, mostly from the mainland, flocked toward those who controlled lands at the edges of the known world, Shi Xie, Duke Jingnan of Jiaozhi, and Gongsun Gong, Marquis Zhenbei of Xiangping. Their domains were gateways to foreign trade routes. They were magnets for profit.

“My lord Duke Shi,” one merchant said, bowing with a practiced smile. “I have heard wonders of the southern coast. I would be honored to establish trade with Jiaozhi.”

“Indeed,” said another merchant, bowing toward Gongsun Gong. “The north, with its access to the steppe and even the lands beyond Goguryeo, holds enormous potential.”

Both lords gave polite smiles and nods, exchanging pleasantries and vague promises. But neither gave firm commitments.

Shi Xie sipped his wine, eyes cool. He knew better than to grant trading privileges lightly, especially not without Lie Fan’s direct sanction.

Gongsun Gong, too, was cordial but cautious. He understood the line between initiative and presumption, especially when it came to the Emperor’s economic domain. In truth, neither man had the authority to adjust tariffs or guarantee imperial protection on foreign soil.

So, like skilled courtiers, they listened, promised to “consider the matter further,” and gracefully sidestepped any deals they were not empowered to make.

While the wheeling and dealing occurred in the corners of the hall, Lie Fan remained seated at the high table beside his sister, Princess Wannian, and her husband, Sima Yi.

“You must be careful,” Lie Fan told her softly, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “You’re not the mischievous little girl I remember climbing the peach trees in the courtyard. You are a mother now or will be one soon. If you or Zhongda need anything, anything at all, you come to me.”

Wannian stuck her tongue out at him, a habit from childhood she’d never quite outgrown.”Yes, yes, Imperial Brother, I understand. I’ll be careful and not act like a child anymore. But still… I hold you to your promise. If Zhongda and I need anything, I’ll hold you to that promise!”

Lie Fan chuckled, shaking his head. Even pregnant, even now a woman grown, she was still the mischievous little sister he’d always known.

From beside her, Sima Yi, ever the proper minister, cleared his throat. “Wannian, we are in public. Remember your decorum this is a formal banquet.”

“Of course, husband. My apologies for my ungraceful demeanor.” Wannian said aloud with a smile that turned sly, then hidden beneath the table, she pinched Sima Yi’s thigh, and whispered through her smile, “You’re ruining the moment.”

The great strategist, the man who could outthink entire armies, barely managed to keep his expression neutral as he subtly rubbed his thigh. Lie Fan caught the exchange and smirked into his wine. Some things never change.

As the banquet wore into the evening, performers came and went. Court musicians played lutes and zithers, and dancers with flowing sleeves told stories of myth and victory with their movements. Toasts were made to the Emperor, to the Crown Prince, and to the unborn child of the Princess and Minister of War.

______________________________

Name: Lie Fan

Title: Founding Emperor Of Hengyuan Dynasty

Age: 34 (201 AD)

Level: 16

Next Level: 462,000

Renown: 2325

Cultivation: Yin Yang Separation (level 9)

SP: 1,121,700

ATTRIBUTE POINTS

STR: 966 (+20)

VIT: 623 (+20)

AGI: 623 (+10)

INT: 667

CHR: 98

WIS: 549

WILL: 432

ATR Points: 0

Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!

Like it ? Add to library!

I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!

Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.